Ode To A Sparrow
by justanotherwriter455
Summary: (COMPLETE) Minato's mission started out like any other, until a chance encounter changes his life forever. Set during the Third Shinobi World War. Minato Namikaze centric.


**Author's Note: This is an idea I've been thinking about for a while. I love Minato, and I really wanted to write a story that was centered around him. The theme of this story is a bit different from what I'm used to writing, and I'm not sure if I fully did it justice, but I gave it my best shot. I hope you enjoy reading, and please do leave a review! Reading them always makes my day!**

_Prologue_

Kakashi watched his sensei—the newly named fourth Hokage—and wondered if all of the pressure had finally gotten to him.

It had started out innocently enough. Minato had asked him to accompany him on some graveside visits, and he had readily agreed. After all, it wasn't like he had anything better to do. When he wasn't on a mission, he spent his time at the memorial stone or wandering the streets aimlessly.

They paid their respects to Obito and Rin, then visited the burial plots of some of Minato's friends and the Namikaze family grave. It was after that that things began to get strange.

Minato had told him to grab onto his arm, and the next thing he knew, they had arrived at a small grave in the middle of a forest clearing. He didn't know where they were, but he had a feeling that they were no longer in the Land of Fire.

His sensei knelt down by the grave, beckoning for Kakashi to follow. It was a simple grave—its only marker a roughly carved wooden cross—but he could tell that it was well-cared for. There were flowers, most of them still fresh, strewn all over it.

Kakashi was about to mention that Minato had forgotten to bring flowers, when his sensei pulled a small brown pouch out of his pocket and emptied its contents into his hand. It definitely wasn't flowers—it looked to be some sort of seeds. Kakashi's confusion only deepened when his sensei started sprinkling the seeds on the grave.

"What are you doing?" he asked, unable to contain his curiosity any longer

"I'm putting bird seed on the grave," Minato replied simply.

"But why? Where are we?"

Birds had begun to flock to the grave and squabble over the seeds. "I had to come. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for her," he answered.

Kakashi resisted the urge to strangle his sensei. "I still don't understand."

Minato smiled slightly. "I know, but I want you to understand. That's why I brought you here. I don't want to be the only person in Konoha who knows about her."

Kakashi sat back against a tree. "Alright. I'm listening."

Well," Minato began, a distant look entering his eyes, "I first met her during the war…"

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Delicate tendrils of light shone through the trees, forming kaleidoscopic patterns on the forest floor. A silver-backed squirrel hurried up a gnarled trunk, its cheeks round with its next meal. Down below, a family of deer—its young still mottled with bright white spots—milled around, chewing placidly on wild grass. The forest appeared to be blissfully undisturbed—just the way _he _wanted it.

High above in the treetops, Minato Namikaze leapt from branch to branch with a grace and fluidity that only came from years of practice. He made no wasted movements, no unnecessary noise. But even as every muscle, tendon and ligament moved with razor precision, his senses were alert, his eyes searching for possible ambush locations and escape routes. It seemed extreme, but this level of caution was necessary when you were on your own in enemy territory.

He was on a solo mission in the Land of Earth. Iwagakure had been greatly weakened since the destruction of the Kannabi bridge, yet still the war dragged on. He sometimes wondered if it would ever end. He had lost friends, teammates, two members of his Genin team, but still, it went on.

In the beginning, every loss had pushed him to grow stronger, to fight harder, in the hope that he could help end the war that much sooner. But eventually, he had realized the cold truth. The leaders of the hidden villages—Konoha included—wanted this war, and so, war they would have. His efforts didn't matter. He was just another cog in the wheel, going where he was told to go, fighting when he was told to fight, killing who he was told to kill.

He froze as his ears picked up the sound of soft footsteps below him. He frowned—he was certain that he had been vigilant in his search for chakra signatures, so it should have been impossible for a shinobi to sneak up on him.

Cautiously, he lowered himself down until a small head of golden-red hair came into view. He felt himself relax. It was just a child. He couldn't resist a grin as he watched the little girl skip through the forest, swinging a bucket back and forth. _What could he say?_ He had a soft spot for redheads.

The child reached her destination, kneeling down by a bubbling river and filling the bucket with fresh water. He leaned against the trunk of the tree he was perched on, careful to keep out of sight. A single civilian child didn't pose much of a threat, but if she went back and told her village he would have a problem. It would be safest to wait to move until he was alone again.

Or that was his plan, at least, until the girl lost her footing and fell into the water with a small shriek, her bright red hair disappearing under the swirling current. He moved without thinking—whipping out one of his three-pronged kunai and flinging it into the river. He teleported on top of the water and immediately glimpsed something red floating just under his feet. He dragged the child up and set her down gently on the riverbank, breathing a sigh of relief as she began to cough and spit out water.

"Are you alright?" he asked, kneeling down beside her.

The girl merely gawked at him as if he had sprouted horns. She pointed a small finger at him. "You—You're that Yellow Fish guy!"

He didn't know what he had been expecting, but it certainly wasn't that. "I think you mean Yellow Flash—not fish," he corrected.

She wrinkled her nose. "Yellow Flash? That's a weird name."

_Weirder than Yellow Fish?_ he thought to himself. Aloud he said, "Yellow Flash isn't my real name, but people call me that because I'm fast."

She eyed him skeptically. "Really? How fast?"

He hesitated. _How did one explain the speed of Hiraishin to a child?_

"Are you faster than my brother?" she asked. "He's really fast, you know. He beats me every time we race, even when I get a head start!"

He hid a smile. "I've never had the pleasure of racing your brother, but I would say that I'm probably faster than him, yes."

"What about my father?" she persisted. "He's even faster than my brother."

He nodded, trying not to laugh. "Yes, I'm probably faster than your father too."

She said nothing, only continued to look at him doubtfully.

Minato sighed and stood. "It can't be helped. I'll just have to show you." He couldn't believe that he was about to show his prized technique, the jutsu that he had spent years perfecting, to a child. It was completely irrational, but even he had his pride.

After marking the ground by his feet with the Hiraishin's seal, he took out another one of his specially-made kunai and threw it at one of the trees across the river.

"Are you ready?" he asked the child. "Watch closely so you don't miss it."

"Alright, mister," she said solemnly. "I'm watching."

He nodded and performed the Hiraishin, transporting himself to the tree and then back to his starting place as quick as, well, a flash.

"Wow!" The girl looked at him, her green eyes wide as saucers. "You really _are _fast!"

He smiled and sat back down beside her. "Why didn't you believe me? Do I really look that slow?" he teased.

"No…" She dug her bare toes into the soft soil. "It's just all those posters say to run away if they see you, so I thought it must be because you're a slow runner and everyone can beat you."

Minato marveled at the child's logic. It was amusing, but it also made a surprising amount of sense. No one could realistically escape from him, so why did they pretend otherwise?

"Those posters are kind of silly, aren't they," she said, speaking his thoughts aloud. "You're so fast, I don't think anyone could run away from you."

"Are you scared of me, now that you've seen how fast I am?" he asked, finding that he was afraid to hear her answer. On the battlefield, he was used to the looks of fear he received, but for some reason, he didn't want this little girl to fear him.

She shook her head. "You saved me, so I'm not scared."

"Well, well," a rough voice—coming from the other side of the river—said, "look what we have here. What's a Konoha shinobi doing so far from home?"

Minato leapt to his feet, taking a defensive stance. He surveyed the men who had managed to ambush him—something which seemed to be becoming a regular occurrence. He decided that he would have to ask one of the sensor ninjas back home to give him some training when he finished this mission.

There were three of them, all equally large, brawny, and mean-looking. They wore Iwa hitai-ate, but none of them had chakra signatures. He remembered hearing rumors about groups of bandits who had been recruited to bulk up Iwa's numbers. They mainly worked as back-up for the main shinobi forces, but some of the more talented and ambitious ones went head-hunting for enemy shinobi.

He didn't particularly like the idea of fighting civilians—even if they were bandits—but he didn't have a choice. Now that they had seen him, he couldn't let them go. He glanced at the girl, who was sitting—frozen—beside him. She didn't need to see what was about to happen. He would draw them further into the woods before finishing them.

He prepared to transport himself to the kunai still embedded in the tree, but in the split second before he vanished, the bandits threw a dagger. His heart stopped as he calculated the trajectory with almost instantaneous speed. He didn't know if this was part of some crafty plan or if they merely had terrible aim, but it was heading straight towards the girl.

He couldn't remember ever using the Hiraishin in such rapid succession. No sooner had he arrived at the tree than he teleported back across the river. He made it just in time, catching the dagger mere inches from the girl's terror-stricken face.

He turned to her. "Are you alright?"

She nodded, looking at him with wide eyes. "I'm ok, but mister, your hand is bleeding."

"Don't worry," he gave her a strained smile, "it's not deep. It wasn't a lie, but as the world began to waver slightly, he knew that the cut was the least of his worries. He had to finish this quickly.

Lucky for him, speed was his specialty, and the fight—if you could call it that—was over in seconds. He had been thrown off-guard earlier, but the bandits were no real match for him. Once he had finished, he went back to the girl's side and dropped to his knees. Not because he was tired, but because his legs had gone numb from the poison and were no longer able to support him.

"Hey mister, are you ok?" he heard the girl ask.

He tried to reassure her, but he found that he couldn't speak. His vision was nearly all gone. The last thought he had before everything went black was how stupid it was that the famed Yellow Flash of Konoha had been taken down by a bunch of bandits.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

"…shouldn't have brought him here," a young boy's voice floated over his head. "He's going to kill all of us when he wakes up."

"No, he won't!" another voice—one that he vaguely recognized—protested. "He saved me!"

"Yeah right," the boy scoffed. "He's from Konoha. He's our _enemy_, Suzu. Or are you too stupid to know even that?"

"I'm not stupid!" the other voice, that he now realized belonged to the girl he had met earlier, cried shrilly. There was the sound of a wooden door opening with a creak and slamming shut.

Minato decided this was as good a time as any to "wake up." His body still felt heavy, but he would be able to make a quick escape if he needed to. He started to open his eyes slowly.

"Look! I think he's waking up," he heard the boy whisper. There was a clattering sound,

then silence.

Minato took in the scene around him. He was lying in the middle of a humble one-room home. A boy—probably nine or ten years old—was standing with his back against the wall. There was fear on his face and a kitchen knife clutched in his shaking hand. The only other occupant of the room was a pretty middle-aged woman with dark red hair. She looked composed, but it didn't escape his notice how she was standing protectively in front of the boy.

He gave them his most reassuring smile. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. Killing civilians isn't something I have a stomach for."

The woman's eyes narrowed, but she remained silent. Minato sat up slowly and tested each of his limbs. His movements were still sluggish, but the numbness was gone.

"I drained as much of the poison from the wound as I could," the woman said quietly. "The remaining effects should wear off in a few hours."

He looked at her in amazement. This woman, who so obviously disliked him, had treated him? "Thank you," he said, recovering himself at last.

"I heard how you saved my daughter, so I was merely repaying my debt," she replied coolly.

"Still, thank you. Many others wouldn't have done the same."

She said nothing, merely looked at him. She hadn't moved an inch from her spot on the other side of the room.

"Well then, I don't want to trouble you any further," he said, catching the hint. He stood and folded the cot carefully. "I'll get going as soon as I thank your daughter. Do you know where I could find her?"

The woman hesitated, then sighed in resignation. "Take a left when you leave the house and go to the top of the hill and you'll find her. She'll be visiting her father's grave, I expect."

"I'm sorry for your loss," he said.

"Yeah, right," the boy said, speaking to him for the first time. "It's because of you that he's dead in the first place! You Konoha monster!"

Minato looked at the woman in confusion. "He was a shinobi?"

She shook her head. "A farmer."

At the look on his face, she smiled bitterly. "If only more of your countrymen shared your sentiment about not killing civilians, Namikaze-san."

"What happened?" Something told him that he didn't want to know, but he couldn't stop himself from asking.

She gave him a strange look but complied. "About a month ago there was a major shinobi battle not far from here. It went badly for Iwa, and a lot of their forces fled to our village. They forced us to let them hide in our homes and our storehouses. When the Konoha shinobi came, they burned most of the village down to scare them out. My husband went into our neighbor's home when it caught fire and never came back out."

Minato closed his eyes, awash with grief, anger, and shame. "On behalf of my entire country, I am truly sorry. I have never been more ashamed to bear the name of Konoha."

"That's just how war is, Namikaze-san. Shinobi squabble over land and power and it's the innocent civilians who are caught in the crossfires. This war will end someday, but sooner or later another will rise up to take its place. That's the world we live in—we have no choice but to accept it and continue on. It's all that we can do."

He nodded and offered her a small smile. He supposed that she was trying to cheer him up, but each of her words—spoken so frankly yet with such sadness—felt like a knife in his stomach. "I suppose that you're right, Mrs…?"

"Takegawa-san."

He nodded. "It was nice meeting you, Takegawa-san. Thank you again for everything. Maybe we'll meet again someday under better circumstances."

. . . . . . . . . . . .

He found the girl—Suzu they had said her name was—where her mother said she would be, sitting at the foot of a grave.

"I'm sorry about your father," he said, taking a seat beside her.

She looked at him, her eyes reflecting a mixture of emotions that shouldn't exist in one so young. "Can I ask you something, mister?"

"Of course. What is it?"

She leaned closer to him, until their faces were almost touching. "You're an important person, aren't you?"

"Well…I guess you could say that," he said uncertainly.

Her eyes lit up and she grabbed his hand eagerly. "Then you can stop the war, right? They'll listen to you, right, mister?"

He looked away, unable to meet her gaze. "I'm afraid not, Suzu. It's true that I'm an important shinobi in my village, but I don't have any real power. I wish that the war would stop too, but unless the Kage—the village leaders—stop the war, there's nothing we—or anyone—can do."

She balled up her hands into small fists. "You sound just like my mother. She's always saying that war is "inedible." I don't know exactly what that means, but I know that she's saying that it can't be stopped."

"Suzu—"

"But that's just stupid!" she burst out. "Whenever my brother and me fight, my mom tells us to stop and we listen to her, because we don't really like hurting each other. Isn't war the same? People are getting hurt, so if someone just told the village leaders to stop, then they would definitely listen!"

Minato shook his head in amazement. She had done it again. This child had an uncanny ability of making him rethink everything that thought he knew. Somewhere along the way, he had also slipped into the mindset that war was inevitable. But now, thanks to the little girl in front of him, he saw how wrong he had been.

He was reminded of a scene from his favorite book. The hero of the story swore to end the cycle of hatred, and for the first time, he saw clearly what he meant. It wasn't just the war that had to end—it was the cycle of hatred—the bitter hopelessness and sense of resignation that had to be shattered.

"Right, mister?" He looked down to see that she was clutching his shirt tightly. "They would listen, wouldn't they?"

He pulled the child close. "Thank you, Suzu. You're right. We can't give up trying to stop it, can we? If we do, then we might as well admit that war really is inevitable."

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "I don't really get all of it," she admitted, "but I know that we can't give up!"

He smiled at her, then leaned back contentedly and looked around. "There sure are a lot of birds around here."

Her cheeks turned red. "That's because I used to put bird seed on the graves, until mother scolded me."

"Bird seed?" he asked in confusion.

She nodded. "Even though I was sad, I thought that at least the birds could be happy, and it made me a little bit happier watching them." She stuck out her lower lip in an adorable pout. "But mother said it was disrespectful and said I had to stop."

"I see," he said, hiding a smile. "Do you like birds?"

"Yep!" she said brightly. "And I'm named after them, too. Suzume, written with the kanji for 'sparrow.'"

He grinned. The name certainly suited her. The little girl was small and full of energy, and when she spoke so quickly and happily, she reminded him very much of a chirping bird.

"That's a very pretty name," he told her.

She smiled and brushed her hand against the fresh soil of the grave. "Yep, so that's why if I die in the war too, I wouldn't mind if people put bird seed on _my_ grave."

Fear seized his heart, but he said lightly, "Don't say that. I already said that I would stop the war, didn't I?"

"You really mean it, mister?" She looked at him, her eyes bright with hope.

He smiled at her. "Of course."

And he truly meant it. His name had been tossed around as a candidate for Hokage before, but he had never desired the mantle until now. He would become Hokage and use his power to break the cycle of war and bloodshed. He would create a world where innocent farmers weren't killed in shinobi wars, and where small children didn't talk about their graves as easily as they talked about everyday things like the weather and their next meal.

He stood and brushed himself off. He had already stayed too long, and he needed to get moving if he was going to reach his destination before nightfall.

"Are you leaving, mister?"

He smiled at her. "I'm afraid so. I have a mission that I have to finish."

"Will I ever see you again?" she asked, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

He bent down and ruffled her hair gently. "How about this? I promise that I'll come back and visit you when the war ends. How does that sound?"

"Okay!" she beamed up at him. "I'll be waiting, mister!"

As Minato looked back one last time, he would never forget the picture of a small girl—her red hair shining in the sunlight—sitting by a grave, surrounded by birds who seemed to instinctively know that she was one of them.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

"I never saw her again after that," Minato-sensei said, his voice soft with regret. "I returned once the war ended like I promised, but she was already gone. Konoha nin came to raid the town for supplies, and she was killed in the attack.

"I was too late to save Suzume," he continued, "but I still owe it to her to make a world she would be proud of. I wouldn't be standing here as Hokage if it weren't for her."

Kakashi stared as his sensei. His teacher had always been a laid-back person, but right now, he could practically feel the determination radiating off his body. "You really think it's possible?" he asked. "To create a world like that?"

Minato smiled. "Maybe not in my lifetime, but if I can preserve the peace while I'm alive and lay the foundation for the future, that will be enough. I'm more than willing to entrust the rest to the younger generation—like you, Kakashi—and to those who don't exist yet"—a flash of joy lit up his eyes— "like my unborn child."

After all that he had seen, Kakashi found it hard to believe that such a world could exist. But still, a small part of him—a part that he kept carefully hidden from the rest of the world—wanted desperately to believe in his sensei's words. After all, if anyone could do it, it would be his sensei. When he had been his student, Kakashi had often found himself wondering if there was anything that the man _couldn't _do. So maybe, just maybe, he could allow himself to hope—just a little bit.

"I think that Suzu would be happy," he told his sensei. "You're putting so much effort into making her wish come true, and you even put bird seed on her grave like she wanted. She was lucky to have met you."

Minato looked at him for a moment, then shook his head, smiling slightly. "You've got it backwards, Kakashi. _I'm_ the one who was lucky to have met her."

They sat in comfortable silence for several minutes, before Minato sighed heavily and stood. "I guess we'd better get back. The piles of paperwork in my office aren't going to do themselves, after all."

As they prepared to Hiraishin away, Kakashi looked back at the grave. Although most of the birds had scattered now that the seeds were gone, there was a single bird perched on top of the cross, gazing wisely at them. It was only after they had been deposited into one of the training grounds in Konoha that he realized.

It had been a sparrow.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

_Epilogue_

Almost thirty years had passed since that day, and although the forest hadn't changed, the same couldn't be said for Kakashi. He was older now—more experienced, more knowledgeable, more temperate…or at least that's how it usually was. At this particular moment, he wasn't feeling 'tempered' in the slightest.

"Hey, Kakashi-sensei, are we there yet?"

He rolled his eyes heavenward and prayed for patience."Not yet, Naruto," he answered, feeling very much like one of those wind-up toys that repeated the same line until you wanted nothing more than to smash them underfoot.

"You've been saying that for two days now!" Naruto shot back irritably. "Will you please just tell me what's going on? You barge into my office telling me that I need to come with you because it's important, and next thing I know I'm out in the middle of nowhere!"

"You'll find out soon enough," he said simply.

Naruto raked his hand through his hair. "I'm in so much trouble," he groaned. "I just became Hokage and I'm already behind in my work. When I get back, I'm not going to be able leave my office for at least a week!"

"Better you than me," he replied cheerfully. As Naruto prepared to throttle him, he stopped in his tracks. "We're here."

Naruto looked around curiously. "But there's nothing here."

Kakashi pulled out a kunai and began to hack down the overgrown grass by his feet until a small wooden cross became visible.

Naruto narrowed his eyes. "It's…a grave?"

He dug a pouch out of his pocket. "Here," he said, pouring half of its contents into Naruto's palm.

The blonde stared at his hand blankly. "Seeds…?"

"Scatter them on the grave," Kakashi said, as he began to spread his own portion over the grass covering the grave.

"Huh?"

"Just do it."

Naruto shrugged and followed his example. Once they finished, they stepped back and watched as birds flocked to the grave, pecking at the ground happily.

Naruto smiled slightly as he watched. "Who's buried here, Kakashi-sensei?"

Kakashi leaned back against a nearby birch tree. "A very special little girl. One that I wanted to introduce you to, now that you've become Hokage."

"But why? Who was she?"

"Her name was Suzume. I never met her, but your father did."

Naruto's brows knit together. "My father?"

"Yes. He also came here when he had just become Hokage, so I thought I would continue the tradition with you. You're the Hokage now, so it's up to you now to carry on her legacy."

"Her legacy? What are you talking about, Kakashi-sensei? Who was she? How did my father know her?"

Kakashi's lips twitched into a smile. "Now, now, one thing at a time. Just sit down and I'll tell you everything."

And with Naruto and the birds as his audience, he began the true story of how a single sparrow had changed the course of Konoha's history.

**Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Please leave a review to let me know what you think!**


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